Well, so much for that, now what?
by EliCa
Summary: So Voldemort's dead. What should happen now? Perhaps a bit of DIY? Fun? Financial planning? Love? Scraping out a plan in a Voldemort free world isn't as easy as it looks.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER AT THE BOTTOM

**Well…so much for that. Now what?**

**By EliCa**

Harry killed Voldemort.

Ron sipped at the coffee Hermione had made, as they all sat in the kitchen of Hermione's house. Her parents were out at the moment, but would be back soon laden with some exciting parcels… as they had done every day for the past three days.

'So what do you think that you're going to do now?' Hermione asked Harry, who was playing with a wooden apple that decorated the kitchen table that sat in the centre of the wooden room.

'Now?' Harry exhaled. 'Well, I'll be honest with both of you. I'm free of something that I thought would take a bit longer than it did. At the moment I'm young, single, quite rich, pretty happy with life, and not in a rush to do anything that could spoil it.'

Hermione smiled. She was pleased that Harry was so carefree at the moment. It was about three weeks since Harry had plunged Godric Gryffindor's sword into Voldemort, and it had taken that long to get to this kind of stage of open discussion.

'Why don't you plan something fun to do?' Asked Ron. 'I need to get a job fairly soon – but I don't think that you need to hurry into it.' What a mark of closeness that Ron could say that without embarrassment…Harry smiled.

'No, I'll be working for the rest of my life; there's no need to rush. I mean, that'll be quite a long time now hopefully!'

'That's not very funny Harry.' Scolded Hermione lightly.

'Not really, but it's nice to say.'

'Any chance of a biscuit Hermione?' Ron asked, realising what was missing from his drink. As she got up to fetch one from a packet in the cupboard, Ron could see out of the window. The view was of Hermione's garden. He could see right to the fence at the end of the lawn, and all of the plants that were planted a bit haphazardly in the beds around the edge. One tree was prominent in the centre of the grass, with its branches stretching to the boundaries on either side, leaves starting to brown and fall.

'You know that Mum and Dad are moving soon,' Hermione said as she sat down to join the boys, with a chocolate covered digestive in hand (the ultimate comfort biscuit, and Hermione's favourite) 'and they're going to be buying me my own place in London.'

'Are you serious?' Ron exclaimed, letting the chocolate biscuit Hermione handed to him get slightly crushed in his fingers. 'That's so cool…'

'Well, yes, it is. I mean, Mum and Dad have thought about leaving here for ages…but it's in quite a good location, and they haven't had a motivation. But now that they know that I want to be in London…'

'I didn't know that' interjected Harry.

'Well, that's where all of the work is, right?' Hermione said a bit defensively.

'And Ron.' Said Harry knowingly, smiling a bit into his own rather cold coffee.

'And Ron' she admitted turning a bit pink. 'But in any case…I'm going to be moving to London.'

'Well then we'll all be there.' Harry said, giving up on his coffee, which had started to give him a stomach ache. 'I've just made my first decision.'

'Congratulations.'

'Thank you Ron. I am going to gut number twelve, Grimmauld Place.'

'Gut it?'

'Yes Hermione, gut it. Rip out the insides of the house with so much destructive force that there will be nothing there. Then I am going to rebuild it from the inside out so that it is unrecognisable. Then I can live there without all of the...well, so that it feels like my home.' Harry glanced out of the window so that he wouldn't have to look at Ron or Hermione's astounded faces. 'I think that it's the right thing to do. You know, start afresh.'

Ron whistled. 'Well…you're going to need a bit of help I think.'

Harry grinned. 'Maybe, but I may just have a bit of fun with a few well placed reducing spells and a sledgehammer.'

'You will be careful with that won't you?' Hermione said, a little concerned. She knew exactly just how irresponsible with own safety Harry could be after spending a year with him and Ron slowly destroying Voldemort, piece of soul by piece of soul.

'Are you saying that you don't trust me after so many years of friendship?'

Hermione and Ron looked at each other a little sceptically.

Ginny Weasley had been condemned to go back to Hogwarts after Harry had killed Voldemort. In fact, she had been condemned to do pretty much nothing whilst he, Hermione, and Ron went around doing lots of risky heroic things. She spent her time helping what was left of the Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore had been murdered.

So she found herself on the train back to Hogwarts, filled with even more people than usual, after several in the year above her had decided to study with the year below so that they could complete their NEWTs. In fact, Ginny was surprised that Hermione wasn't sitting with her on the train, instead of going off to London with her brother. Ginny sighed as she watched the countryside going past her.

She didn't blame Harry for not running straight to her arms after he had finished his personal quest. He hadn't promised anything after all…but he had said that he was only breaking up with her because he liked her _too _much…that she wasn't safe. But she did feel a little resentment that she hadn't been with anybody since him, and she didn't think that she wanted to be with anybody at Hogwarts this year either…all because she knew in the recesses of her heart that they belonged together, and he was going to come to his senses soon.

For now though, she just had to try and concentrate on her schoolwork in the massively changed Hogwarts. McGonagall was Headmistress, and there were going to be new teachers for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. She didn't know what had happened to Snape, but she knew that his disappearance had something to do with Harry. Killing Voldemort she understood and threw off as a necessary thing that someone had to do…but if Snape was dead…well, she didn't want to know about it. Not now. It was a bit fresh.

'We're nearly at Hogwarts Ginny,' said Graham, a Ravenclaw in her year who she had been sitting silently next to for the past two hours.

'Oh, thanks.' She said, as the carriage hurriedly got ready for a new term. Ginny pinned a Prefect's badge to her robes as she walked out of the Prefect's carriage to hurry along the younger years.

Harry and Ron had made a habit of going out for a drink in a different pub almost every night. Sometimes Hermione would join them, other times, different friends would come along too. It was pleasant, and a good way of meeting lots of people who lived in the same city as themselves. Tonight, even Remus Lupin, who approached Muggle Pubs warily, joined them.

'I can't believe that you come to these places regularly. They smell so bad.' He was heard moaning soon after sitting down with a drink.

'Don't forget that you've got enhanced scent…and anyway, it's not that bad.' Ron tried to defend the unpleasant smoky odour.

'Or at least,' entered Harry, 'it's not enough to make us stay away. What kind of reputation would we make for ourselves if we ended up in The Leaky Cauldron every night?'

Ron chuckled. 'I can see the headline in the Daily Prophet now. You would be the drunkard, and I'd be leading you astray. We can try and find some seedy women too.' Even Lupin joined in with the merriment.

'Well, I suppose that this beer is a bit better than some of the stuff they offer at the Cauldron…'

'Undoubtedly better.' Chimed in Ron.

'And if it keeps you out of trouble…'

'And the headlines, don't forget them.' Added Ron again,

'Then I'm pleased that you like your new hobby.'

'Cheers to that' said Harry, raising his bottle, joined by two others in a salute to Lupin's endorsement.

'How's the house project going Harry?' Remus asked.

Harry thought a little before answering. 'Well…gutting was successful.'

'Was?' Asked Remus warily…Ron (who already knew what was going on) just grinned into his own bottle.

'I'm sleeping on rubble.'

'Harry!' Admonished Remus, 'you should probably get to stage two before you do your back in.'

'I will! I'm just having a few…disagreements with my architect.'

'See, Remus, Harry has very responsibly hired an architect. He's not such an idiot after all, who could easily sleep on the floor of his friend's houses, but instead decides to sleep on some breeze blocks…'

'I'll come over tonight if it makes you shut up Ron.' Ron shrugged his shoulders to show that it was fine for Harry to stay whenever he wanted. 'Anyway, my architect thinks that I should be trying to stick with the original style of the building to emphasise the gothic features or something. I don't think that he quite understands the motivation behind the project or else he wouldn't have suggested it.'

'What kind of look are you after?' Remus asked.

'Modern.'

Remus raised his eyebrows.

'Ok, that's a bit broad…but something clean, you know. Lots of big spaces and chrome…you know the kind of thing. Anything that is nothing like Grimmauld Place mark one.'

'I would have thought that you would've wanted something a bit more homely…you know, like the Gryffindor common room somewhere in your ideal house.' Ron said.

'Ah, well,…I did…but …my architect didn't really understand. He came up with something resembling a sado-masochistic torture chamber for my bedroom.' Harry started to laugh. 'I don't think I know where my description went wrong…but I burnt the blueprints myself to avoid them getting into the newspaper. Modern is much safer with this guy.'

'He sounds like an idiot.' Ron said sagely.

'He is, I assure you.'

'So why don't you hire someone else?' Remus asked.

'Well, I would, but there's something of a monopoly over magical architects. There's so much magic in the house that I can't have just anyone messing around…and as idiotic as my man is…he's also good at getting the job done. Once the designs are finalised anyhow. Have you ever seen Dai Llewellyn's house?'

'Only in my Mum's Witch Weekly.' Said Ron as Remus nodded.

'Well, that was my man's job. He's got a good track record, he's just so…overcomplicated. I'm a simple man with simple needs…and a special whip stand just doesn't come into it.'

They all laughed the rest of the night away with carefree banter.

Hermione Granger had settled into her new home. It was a very small flat in North London, with just enough rooms to qualify it as a dwelling place. To be honest, for just her and the visitors she entertained, it was perfect. The previous owners had been pretty conservative in their tastes, so she was perfectly happy living in a pastel pink bathroom, and very light blue bedroom. For the first time in her life…she had a double bed to call her own. It was luxurious.

Actually, for the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly free. She was yet to start any type of employment, there was no school (no Voldemort either), and she was still single. Well, sort of. Despite the fact that she and Ron were kind of…steadily getting used to being in love, and being loved – they were still not officially a couple. As Hermione lay on her big inviting bed, she had to ask herself why not. All her rather substantial mind could come up with, was that they were both a little nervous.

Harry was in the flat that Ron treated a bit like his own, but actually belonged to Fred and George. On the nights that he did sleep here (actually more often than Ron had indicated to Remus), he slept on the sofa. It was a little bit more comfortable than his mattress on breeze blocks…but not by much. The problem was not with the sofa itself, which was perfectly nice, but that he was substantially longer than the sofa was. Harry had tried all sorts of sleeping positions in the past to try and get comfortable, and none of them worked, so tonight he just resigned himself (and his back) to a night of distress.

Harry had other problems with regard to sleeping too. He was having problems with his emotions. He had assumed at Dumbledore's funeral that he would break up with Ginny, kill Voldemort, or die. If he survived, then he would get back together with Ginny, or he would have found someone new. Neither of those things had happened. He was still here, lying on a friend's sofa…distinctly single. Ginny had shown no intention of getting back together with him, and from what information he could glean from Ron, nor with getting with anybody else. But then again, Ron wasn't the most well-informed source on Ginny.

He didn't even know how he felt any more. He didn't know whether it was worth getting with her, or whether he wanted simply to be with anyone – and she just happened to be at the top of the list considering that she was his most recent girlfriend.

Most recent. That was a year ago.

Harry groaned out loud at the mere fact, and struggled with the sofa, only to end up in an even worse place than he was before. He gave up and fell asleep.

Harry had only been asleep for an hour before the front door opened, and a dark figure crept in through the door, followed by a distinctly solid shadow…a giggling figure followed them, and was shushed by the shadow. Harry stirred a little, but remained asleep. The group, that was now four people breathed a very quiet sigh of relief, and proceeded into the flat.

Authors Note

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince hasn't been on our bookshelves for longer than two and a half months, and already there is a certain amount of cliché emerging in fanfiction. Granted, there is an excuse. With six books gone, and only one to go, there is only a certain direction that fanfiction can really go – unless we fanfic authors are really going to plug the realms of the extreme.

I don't want to do that, but I'll say now...that I hope that I'm not too clichéd. All I can do is hope…

I don't own Harry Potter (if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep my silence in the admirable way JKR does).


	2. Chapter 2

'What on earth is this?'

'I don't know. Looks like someone left a really long mop on our furniture.'

'Perhaps we should lock it in the cupboard?'

Harry snored.

Fred laughed. 'The mop appears to be alive.'

'Didn't Dad try and destroy those live mops when we started at Hogwarts?'

'We should tell him that he missed one.'

'Or just put it in the skip that's positioned just outside our window…'

'George - that just might be a brilliant idea.' Fred grinned, and started to yell in Harry's ear 'Oi, mop! What do you think?'

Harry groaned. 'You've lost you subtlety' he muttered, without opening his eyes.

'Your hair needs a cut.' Said George helpfully.

'Thanks.' Mumbled Harry.

'Do you want me to do it?' George offered, still in a helpful mood.

'No.'

Harry heard a strange noise, and felt something light land on his nose…it wouldn't be…no, even Fred and George wouldn't be that cruel…. He opened his nose, and surely enough, George had sprinkled some of Harry's own hair on Harry's face.

'Oh, you two have gone too far…' started Harry, too stunned to finish what he was saying as he tried to assess the damage.

'I don't think so…' started Fred. 'You actually have so much hair that I can't see what George has cut off. It might even be an improvement, that funny bit on the side doesn't stick out as much anymore.'

'I liked that bit!' protested Harry feebly as he fell off the sofa to try and find his glasses and a mirror. But sure enough, he couldn't see a difference. Not one hair was in place, as his hair never was.

Fred and George were out of the door by the time turned around, and glanced at the clock. It was eight in the morning, and he had a meeting with the architect in an hour at his house. He'd better get a move on. Harry left the flat, leaving Ron in bed.

Ron woke up as Harry got into the shower, looked at the clock at swore. He was going to be late for his job. He was junior under-secretary at the Department of Magical Crime; which was actually just a part time position to help fund his auror training. He wanted to be working for the rest of his career doing the kind of stuff that he'd been doing with Hermione and Harry for the past year. He knew that there would be more paperwork in an actual auror's office – but the work would be exciting…hopefully.

Training so far had been quite tame. Lots of lectures about laws and limitations, and the odd bit of catch-up work on basic skills in potions, transfiguration, charms, and defence work. Not to mention the current affairs lectures…just to keep them 'up to speed'. Lots of things that Ron already knew.

He was a kind of minor hero after his part in Voldemort's downfall. The rumours were that he and Hermione were up for Orders of Merlin, First Class, which would be the same as Harry was definitely going to get. He thought that that would be quite cool to start his career with, and definitely hard to beat. But regardless of all that…he was treated like scum, just like the rest of the trainees. Probably more, because he didn't have any NEWTs – he only got on because they needed to fill places and he was physically quite big.

Ron felt grown up. He was dating Hermione (sort of) – but they were taking it extremely slowly. He thought that she was a bit scared of him, but he was starting to get a bit irritated by the lack of speed. Harry had turned out to be quite well adjusted really, after a few months not too long ago where he seemed to be a bit of an obsessed maniac.

If by well-adjusted he meant tearing apart a house with just a little wooden stick… Ron corrected himself. Harry would never be entirely well adjusted, but he wasn't doing badly.

Time went by, and the house was complete. A short period of time, but with magic all jobs are quicker. It was done to Harry's specifications (by and large), and the architect, Mr Morris Jankiss, was happy with the job.

'If you need anything else Harry, don't hesitate to ask.'

'I think that we've finally covered everything Morris. My house looks like it will be very nice to live in. Thank you so much for all of your hard work.'

Harry closed the door on his odd architect and interior designer in one (and what a combination) and surveyed his new house. Floors had been knocked together, and new ones added to make a three-storey house with absolutely huge ceilings on the ground floor. It was indeed modern, with lots of shiny bits, glass, splashes of colour, and extravagant swathes of fabric all over the place – but all in tasteful places.

Harry sat in a big armchair in his sitting room and switched on the television. He relaxed and tried to think of what his next project should be. If he planned to be an auror, then he had missed the start of term and therefore had a few months to kill. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair as a popular American comedy came on. Perhaps he could invite a few friends over for drinks? After all, he hadn't spoken to some people from school for over a year, it was about time that he re-established contact.

'Is there something you want to tell me Harry?' Asked Dean Thomas, as Harry showed him around his house.

'Erm, I don't think so. Why?'

'Your house is really nice.'

'Thanks.'

'I mean…a little bit _too _nice, if you get my meaning.'

'I'm not a mobster.'

Dean smiled. 'I don't mean money…I mean it's a bit tasteful. You know?'

Harry didn't really understand what Dean was talking about. They wandered into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice. It dawned. 'I'm not gay.'

'That's all I needed to know…we have been friends a long time, I would have been upset if you didn't trust me enough to confide in me.' Harry grinned.

'I promise you that if I ever realise that I am gay, then I'll tell you.'

Dean was only popping in to Harry's house in order to look around, and say hello. It was so easy for friends to lose contact once they left school, so he accepted Harry's invitation immediately. Of course, it didn't hurt his fledgling career as a journalist at 'Witch Weekly' that he was friends with so many quite famous individuals. Or super-famous, in Harry's case. He could now describe Harry's bedroom in detail (but Harry hadn't told him the fact that he nearly got a more risqué bedroom – he knew what Dean's career was).

'Actually Harry, I was wondering if I could have a little interview with you at some stage.'

'Why?'

'Because people want to try and get to know you.'

'I'm really very boring.' Harry assured Dean.

'I know, but the witches of the world think that you're horribly interesting. I have to try and varnish you with some kind of life.'

'I've been sleeping on breezeblocks for months. Is that a life?'

'No girlfriend then?'

'Don't even go there.' Harry said, partly in jest, but also partly serious. He had a policy with journalists and his private life…no one else was involved in an interview apart from himself and the interviewer, regardless of who that was.

Dean laughed. 'Same, same. My girlfriend just dumped me for a man who's at university with her.'

'Bad luck.'

'So you're not with Ginny?' Dean asked, with a slight sharpness present in his tone.

'I'll just say again, let's not go there, ok?' Harry said, all joviality gone. Dean put his hands up in a mock-surrender. With his hands up, he took the opportunity to check his watch as things were getting a little bit awkward.

'Oh, well look at the time. I'd better be heading off. My boss will kill me if I'm late again.' Dean forced out a laugh, and accepted Harry's insincere protests that he couldn't be needed back so soon…but if he really did have to go then there was nothing that he could do about it.

The door closed behind Dean, and Harry was relieved. Dean knew that the little meeting could have been worse. But the day prompted him to think later in the evening about where his priorities really lay – with his job, or with his private life? At the rate he was going, he was going to be single and alone with only a few bye-lines to show for his life…but then again, things always look better in the morning. By then he was happy with his misplaced priorities.

That very same evening that Dean was reconsidering his life, Remus was shifting onto his elbow to try and get into a decent position.

'Why are you always so fidgety in bed?' Tonks asked Remus good-naturedly. She took the opportunity to touch the offending body, to assure him that it was in no way offensive to her.

'I just want to see you better' he said honestly. 'I don't like talking and not being able to see into people's eyes at the best of times.'

'Well, that's fair enough. And you do have very nice eyes, so I don't object at all to you looking at me.'

'You have very…' Remus paused and scrutinised Tonks' eyes. Tonight they were silver, so he continued - 'very interesting eyes. I like them like that – they shine.'

'Mm, glinting in the moonlight.' Tonks smiled. Remus harrumphed. 'Do you ever think…' she stopped.

'Often. It's a very bad habit of mine.'

'I mean, this is very nice and everything' continued Tonks, as if Remus hadn't said anything. 'But I was wondering if you thought about the future…about where we were going.' That was it; she'd said it. There was no taking back the words.

'Yes.'

'You do?' Tonks was surprised, but pleasantly. Remus could actually finally have come around to seeing their relationship from her perspective…or on the other hand he had decided that he had been right all along and wanted to end it right there and then. Perhaps he thought that they had no future after all.

'Of course I do. I see lots of moments like this, just me and you lying here feeling rather like we do now – which is the kind of future I would call perfect.'

'I think that I love you sometimes Remus, maybe just because you can shock me.'

'I think that I might love you for much the same reason.'

Tonks paused. 'But we're far too sweet…. it can't be real. What's going on in the real world? What's actually going on apart from us lying here shocking each other?'

Remus shifted onto his other elbow. 'I went for another drink with Ron and Harry again.' Tonks made an interested noise, prompting Remus to go on. 'Harry said that his house is now wonderful and we all need to see it. Ron sounds like he needs to talk to Hermione, and generally – they sound just like they should at their age. It's really quite refreshing just talking to them.'

'Has Harry spoken to Ginny yet?'

'We shied off the topic. Who knows?'

Horatio reached up as far as he could. He knew that he shouldn't be in this part of the shop, but he couldn't resist it. All of the curtains and signs that said under-age wizards shouldn't go in…it was just a little bit too tempting to a little boy. His fingers could just about curl around the edges of a box, but if he just stood on his toes and stretched a little further…

'I don't think so...' a voice said from nowhere. Horatio turned around…caught, and with nothing to show for his trespass. He swallowed all of the extra spit that he seemed a little bit too aware of right now. Before him stood the mighty figure of a Weasley brother, one of the men that owned the shop, and by legend one of the people in Diagon Alley you did not ever want to get on the wrong side of.

'Is that another one George?' A voice yelled through from the main shop floor.

'Yep…' The man in front of Horatio said, who appeared to be George Weasley. Horatio was a little bit star struck.

'What's your name?' George Weasley asked.

'Horatio.' Croaked the little boy. He had swallowed so much spit that there wasn't enough to immediately lubricate his vocal chords.

'Well Horatio, there is a reason that these products are put behind a curtain. Why we don't let under-age wizards behind here. Could you possibly guess why we would do that?'

Horatio shook his head.

'You're not very imaginative are you?' George said, scowling a little. He had spoken to several children over the past year about breaking shop rules, and a lot of them had exciting excuses or cheeky replies…this one just seemed to insist on standing there dumbly. George sighed. He couldn't really be bothered to elaborate. 'To cut a very very long story short, these are things that could really mess up your life. That box you were trying to dislodge, for example – ' George raised his arm and easily lifted the box off the shelf '-is for turning your hair into any style or colour you want to. It's like being a metamorphagus, but only for your hair, and only a couple of times. But spill it badly, or use it in the wrong way…and well, let's just say that there's potential to destroy a rather useful part of your anatomy…if you know what I mean.'

By the look on Horatio's face, he didn't know what George meant.

'It could…' George paused, trying to think how to re-phrase. He gave up. 'It could hurt. Now get out.'

Horatio nodded and ran into the curtain. His arms floundered with the fabric, before he ran out into the main shop, and straight from there into the street. George emerged shortly afterwards, pushing the curtain to one side as he walked through to join Fred at the till.

'How did it go?' Fred asked.

'Well…he's…out' George said lamely.

'That's a start George, but then we also need to work on getting them to come back into the shop and spend some money.'

'We're doing alright aren't we?' George asked curiously, Fred seemed almost worried about profits – which had never been a problem.

'Yeah we're fine for running one shop, but I think that we need to get some more money in if we're going to carry on with our plan to buy up Zonkos.'

George was silenced. But not for very long. 'We're going to carry on with that? But we can't afford to yet, and Zonko isn't selling right now…'

'Think about it. Our main revenue comes from kids. Kids go to Hogwarts. So during term-time our revenue dips here, but would go up in Hogsmeade. We just need some initial investment and then we'll be rolling in it, able to pay off any investment in months. Zonko makes a lot of money, and we could easily beat him – we have much better stock.'

'I agree with all that Frederick, but where is the initial investment going to come from?'

Fred smiled. 'How about we have a word with our initial investor?'

'Oh no Fred,' George said, 'last time he had spare cash. Now he actually needs some money.'

'So why don't we deal, organise some sort of interest payment? We do owe him anyhow, none of this would have ever been possible without Harry.'

George smiled. 'We should get him in here for a business meeting.'

The twins quickly put together an informal proposal and sent it to Harry by owl. He received it as he was sitting on the floor of his living room with Hermione, both poised over several sheets of paper.

'I don't recognise that owl.' Hermione commented as Harry took the letter off and read it quickly. She watched as his face revealed slight surprise, but he didn't seem to be unhappy.

'Perfect. This answers all of my problems. Well, for the moment at least.' Harry put the parchment on the floor with all of the other scattered documents. Hermione saw that it was Fred and George's headed stationary.

'Well?' Prompted Hermione, after Harry had remained silent.

'It's from Fred and George,' started Harry in the same kind of tone a semi-senile old woman would use which made Hermione smile. 'They say that they need some more funding.' It was all clear to Hermione now. She and Harry had just spent the last few hours trying to work out how on earth Harry was supposed to support himself for the next few years whilst still living the lifestyle that he was becoming accustomed to. Considering that Harry had a fair amount of money, it wasn't too hard to decide that he should invest his money wisely. But choosing where was a bit harder than it first seemed.

'So you want to invest in the Wizarding Wheezes?' checked Hermione.

'Exactly. Fred and George want to have a real business meeting and everything. How cool's that?' Harry had gone from old woman to over-excited teenager in very few seconds.

'Very cool Harry, very cool. But I think that you shouldn't be too generous. There may not be too much choice around right now, but I read in the 'Prophet' a few days ago that the destruction of Voldemort should lead to a lot of new business. People aren't scared any more.' Harry nodded to Hermione's wise words.

'Well, as long as I have enough cash to do whatever I want, I don't really care.'

'But what is it you want?'

Harry flushed very slightly, and paused. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself. 'I don't know.'

Hermione thought that she knew what Harry wanted, but she didn't think that it would be taboo. After all, he was quite open about his feelings towards Ginny last year. What could have changed? In fairness to him, she didn't exactly talk about her feelings towards Ron with anyone. Even Ron. That didn't make any sense, did it? Couldn't lead to a healthy relationship if she wasn't speaking to him. She resolved to have a conversation with the man she considered to be her boyfriend.

The conversation was actually held only a day later, far sooner than Hermione anticipated. Ron had come over to her flat after a tough day Christmas shopping for some sympathy.

'I hate my family.'

'What?' Hermione thought that she'd heard wrong over the sound of the kettle boiling.

'My family is so big that Christmas is a kind of financial massacre. I could actually wring Bill's neck for marrying Fleur, as just because she's…' Ron picked his words carefully, Hermione wouldn't like him commenting on her astonishingly good looks - 'French, she demands the most expensive of anything.'

'So what did you buy her?'

'I doubled up. Presents for Bill are now for the monster known as Billnfleur. They still need things like spare towels, so I bought them some spare towels.' Ron looked quite pleased with this present.

'Well…that's very useful of you.' Hermione poured the water onto the teabags in the teacups and watched colour swirl into the water. 'I don't know whether I should buy them anything.'

'Why should you?' Asked Ron, shocked. 'I just told you how awful it is shopping for them!'

'But…I don't know. I went to their wedding, and your family are so close…'

'I'll put your name on my labels if you want.' Ron offered coyly.

'Say they're from the monster called Ronnermione?' They both smiled.

'Yeah, I think that they'd appreciate that. I quite like sound of it myself,' mused Ron. There was a pause as Ron helped himself to a couple of chocolate digestives. 'I'm really tired.' Said Ron, rather randomly. Hermione waited for elaboration. 'George and Fred come in the whole time really late, always with some giggling females, and then they leave really early. I get woken up by them, and it's tough to y'know, talk to them about it.'

'I can imagine. Who are the giggling females anyway?'

'I have no idea. But I hate them.'

Hermione looked at Ron and thought that she could actually see some bags underneath his eyes. 'Why don't you stay here?' She suggested as innocently as she could. Ron raised his eyebrows.

'That's an idea' he said with a surprising amount of restraint.

'Oh don't be so prudish Ron. You can sleep wherever you want, and I'd be happy to know that you'd be getting a good night's sleep. It would be nice anyway; I hardly ever get to see you. I don't… I don't even know quite where we stand in our relationship anymore.' Hermione stole Ron's biscuit and took a bite. She chewed as Ron responded.

'We're together,' he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'But we're not really going anywhere fast are we?' Hermione shook her head. 'Is it annoying you too?' Hermione nodded, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. 'I thought it was just me!' He grinned. 'I'll move in tomorrow.'

Joy on both sides, how adorable.

The first term of Hogwarts was nearly over. If Ginny had thought that OWLs were bad, then she had really underestimated the NEWT. With fewer subjects, it should be easier, but no. She was quite well organised, but finding time for quidditch, prefect duties, socialising, and getting all of her work done was a challenge that threatened to get the better of her.

But she managed to keep herself happy. She was surrounded by friends and friendly people the whole time, and so wasn't often seen alone.

This morning, Ginny had chosen to eat porridge for breakfast, as it was cold outside and the chill had entered the castle a little. She didn't get to eat much of it, as a large, elderly white bird fell into it.

'Hedwig?' She half exclaimed, half asked. 'What are you doing?' Large amber eyes looked up apologetically. Ginny sympathetically helped Hedwig up, as she wondered what on earth she was doing falling into her porridge. 'Oh look at you, you're a mess!' As she tried to clean Hedwig's feathers, Ginny noticed a note tied to her leg that was addressed with her name. 'Is that a letter from Harry?' Hedwig was preoccupied with eating porridge, so Ginny assumed that it was, and unrolled it.

'Dear Ginny,

I haven't spoken to you for a really long time, and for that I'm sorry. So I thought that I'd make amends and write to you now. How are you? I wondered if you knew the latest bits of gossip from London-way. Ron's moved out of Fred and George's (apparently because of night-time disturbances) and into Hermione's (where I refuse to go for fear of the same disturbances – very disturbing in a very different way).

Remus and Tonks announced that they were thinking about getting engaged the other day, which is a sign of commitment, I suppose. They seem happy about it. Remus looks much healthier too. I reckon that could be because he's coming out with Ron and me more often to the pub. Beer is good for you.

As for me, I'm not doing much at the moment. My house has been done up so that it looks quite nice really. You should come and see it when you're free. Ron told me that you're not going to be at the Burrow for the Christmas holiday so I won't see you then. Maybe some other time?

The house took quite a while to do up, so I missed starting the auror training. I've spent my time having business meetings with Fred and George (have you seen their new premises in Hogsmeade yet? I should probably pop up and see them as I am now officially entangled in their sorry mess of a business). As there's not much to do, I've started to play the guitar. I'm quite good really, for a beginner anyway. Probably something to do with the fact that I have lots of time to practise.

I hope that NEWTs aren't too bad. I can't offer any words of advice considering that I skipped them, but still, I hope that you aren't having too many problems.

With Love,

Harry'

Not a bad letter, she thought. It was a start, and she hadn't had to write to him first. Plus, he did sign it off with love. She did actually know a few bits of the news. Her Mum was not happy about Ron and Hermione's little arrangement – but Fred and George being naughty too? That was blackmail material. Nobody had told her about Harry finding his musical side. She stifled a giggle. It just sounded a little ridiculous really.

Ginny pulled out her timetable to make sure that she made time to write a reply tonight.

The old saying goes that time flies when you're having fun. True as that may be, time also flies when you're not doing very much. Before you know it, the holidays are over, you've started work, and then you realise that you haven't accomplished very much in a very long time span.

After the Christmas holidays were over (very quickly, of course) everybody went back to their normal timetables. Fleur Weasley didn't have a normal timetable, as she was trying very hard to set up a house for herself and Bill in the depths of Shropshire – an English county very full of beautiful countryside.

Bill came home from work (the commute from London isn't so bad if you can apparate) one evening to find Fleur in the kitchen putting something dubious into the saucepan. Unfortunately, this wasn't a very rare event.

'What's that?' He asked, sneaking up behind his wife. She jumped a little.

'Oh Bill, you scared me!' She turned her neck and kissed him. 'It ees a little sumthing my muzzer taught me over ze telefon.' She was grinning more than was ordinary.

'Why on earth were you on the phone to your Mum today?' Bill and Fleur had been to Fleur's family house near Marseilles for Christmas. Bill and Fleur's didn't really get along – but no one could quite pin it down. It might have been her custom of scowling every time his name was mentioned, or her little habit of 'forgetting' that he was there. But Bill refused to say, and Fleur's mother…well, the less said about her in front of Bill, the better.

'I 'ad sum news.' Bill made noises that indicated he was interested. 'I am pregnant Bill.' She burst out. He froze.

'For real?' He said, a little bit stunned…but very very happy. He didn't even know why, he hated babies! But hearing Fleur say that she was pregnant, and that she was so happy to be carrying his baby filled him with joy.

'Oui, for real.'

He kissed her. What else could he do? Such a strange bit of news…

Later on they established that she was already three months pregnant, so they only had to wait until September for the birth of the little Weasley.

'Do you think that baby will be the first red-headed veela?' Pondered Bill in bed that night. But Fleur was already asleep.

A natural ending I think.

Thank you to all who reviewed the last part, I enjoyed reading them very much. It's true – they are an encouragement of the best kind. Tell me if you enjoyed this part too.

-EliCa


	3. Chapter 3

Ron ordered a bottle of ale that he had never tried before and Harry's ordinary pint of lager. He carried them tentatively back to the table, careful not to spill any liquid on somebody who might react in a violent manner. Today they were in a pub that looked a little bit rougher than what they were used to.

'Thanks Ron,' said Harry appreciatively, sipping his drink. 'That tastes so good.'

Ron scrutinised his friend, making Harry feel a little uncomfortable. 'Where does all this beer go on you? I have to work so hard to keep the beer belly off. You do nothing all day, and yet you are as skinny as the day you walked into my mother's house.'

'I run. I'm not skinny anyway, I'm athletically slim.' Said Harry defensively.

'Athletically slim…' Ron murmured unfavourable comparisons under his breath. 'What on earth is that supposed to mean?'

Harry leaned over the table a little bit and whispered conspiratorially. 'I have muscles.' He sat back into his chair.

Ron knew that Harry cared very much about sculpting his body. It was about all he could do to prepare for being an auror whilst he waited for the new term. Harry cared so much that teasing him about it was far too easy.

'Well watch out muscle man, because there are people training with me who could break you in half.'

'I don't doubt it, but there are small children that I could break in half.' Harry sniggered at his comment.

'You're sick Potter!'

'And proud.'

Ron tried his new ale…it was really very nice. Much better than any lager Harry drank, which undoubtedly tasted a little bit like a mix of water and urine all fizzed up. Lager didn't agree with Ron anyway, gave him wind. Seemed to suit Harry though…who avoided the dreaded beer belly…

'On a more cheerful subject, did you hear the news about Bill and Fleur?' Ron asked.

'Yeah, congratulations. You're going to be an uncle.' Harry lifted his glass in a salute to Ron. 'To your niece or nephew, who is undoubtedly going to be ridiculously good looking.'

'Don't I just know it.'

'When did you find out?'

Ron considered his answer. 'According to Mum, Bill found out on Saturday. She found out Sunday morning, and after she'd had a bit of a cry…. you know Mum…she got in touch with all of us in age order by owl. So, I guess it must have been about Sunday night.'

'Why did it take so long?'

'Mum made sure to use only one owl, and to make sure that she got a properly appreciative reply.' Ron raised his eyebrows at the very thought of his mother's eccentricity.

'Where's Charlie then? He can't have gone back to Romania…right? Not if your Mum can get back to you so quickly.'

'Somewhere, doing something. I think that he's job-hunting, and failing that he said something about starting a breeding company with Hagrid at Christmas didn't he?'

Harry nearly spat out his beer. 'That was a joke wasn't it?' Ron shrugged his shoulders, and Harry shuddered.

'Any thoughts on baby names yet?' Harry asked. He loved the thought of a new baby. He'd never spent much time with children, so he would be paying a lot of attention to this one.

'Bill's the oldest, so he's got to carry on the family names of Bilius and Arthur at some stage. If it's a girl…Bilerina? Arthurina?'

'Fleur's French remember. Bilerina would be more like' Harry put on his best fake French accent, 'Bilerrineur. You know, get the vomity glottal noise right.' Ron snorted.

'What about you though, you've been talking to Remus a lot recently. What's he been up to?' Ron asked.

'The unofficial engagement to Tonks involves unofficial wedding plans too.'

'What?' said Ron in loud exasperation, causing a few shaven-headed large men to turn their way. Ron lowered his voice a bit.

'I know. I have told Remus that he might as well just get officially engaged, but he freaked out a bit at the suggestion. So, I'm just playing along. Looking around, that kind of thing.'

'I think Remus just wants the world's shortest engagement. He can announce his intentions, get the wedding organised, and actually get hitched in about a fortnight.' Harry nodded, agreeing. 'He's crazy. When I get engaged, it's going to be for a long time.'

'What does Hermione think about that?'

Ron didn't even blush. 'She doesn't know that yet. It's my secret trick for when she starts all desperate to get married, we can get engaged without any thought for the actual commitment.'

'But what's so bad about getting married? I'd like a short engagement.' Harry said very matter-of-factly.

'Only the single man can be so sure of that. It's just…I don't know. It's so final – so adult. I don't want to be that grown up any time soon. Marriage means kids. Could you imagine my kids with Hermione? They'd be kind of ginger bookworms. Yuk!'

'You'll love them.'

'Yeah I will. When little Ron junior looks at me and says – 'Daddy, I don't want a broomstick for Christmas, I want 'Hogwarts – A History'' I'll say to him, 'Son, have whatever makes you happy.' Ron crossed his arms and grinned at the little fantasy.

'Sounds to me like you've become mature.' Harry said wisely. 'Next step – wedding bells.' Ron grimaced.

'Have you broken up with your girlfriend?' Ron asked.

'I don't have a girlfriend Ron. What are you talking about?'

'I meant the guitar. Usually when we meet up it's about all you talk about, I thought that the worst had happened.'

Harry smiled. 'She's very well. I've got pretty good actually, my teacher says that I'm getting better much more quickly than she could ever have anticipated.'

'I think that she fancies you.'

'I think that she's married, fifty-seven, and ugly.'

Ron paused. 'How do you find your teachers?'

'She's called Alison Aaronson. I just looked up guitar teachers in the Yellow Pages and she was first.' Harry shrugged. 'She's pretty good; I nearly need someone else to start teaching me. I think that I've exhausted my patience with classical guitar.'

'No Harry,' said Ron, knowing what was coming next. 'Don't be one of those geeky men who gets into electric guitars.' Cogs started whirring in Ron's head, 'is that why your hair is that rank mess nowadays? Are you trying to be a rock-star?' Ron roared with laughter as Harry sat watching him silently.

'I just had a haircut.' Said Harry, as a lame kind of defence. It was true - his hair was shorter. It now reached halfway up his neck, whereas before it had started to trail on his collar. Most of the jokes he received from many Weasleys were about the front of his hair, as it trailed very messily into his eyes, and a little bit over his ears. The finale of the piece was the trademark Potter hair gene that caused hair to stick up at random in seemingly improbable ways. Harry thought that overall it looked quite fashionable. Muggles might have agreed. Wizards quite simply didn't.

'Should I get you a bandana for your birthday?' Ron said taking a break from laughing, just before he started again. Harry was getting bored with just watching his friend having a lovely time.

'Is Hermione getting promoted yet?' Harry said, trying to distract Ron.

'Hmm?' Ron said, as he wiped tears from his eyes. Harry repeated his question. 'Oh, yeah, she might be. Obviously I can't talk about it much – partly because I don't know anything – but she said something about a promotion.'

Hermione had been working for the Department of Mysteries since October. Nobody knew what she did really, but it had to be something where raw intelligence was needed over qualifications, considering that Hermione didn't have any NEWTs and she didn't seem to be in a hurry to go back to school.

'Good.' Said Harry, as Ron's breathing returned to normal. At one stage he looked as if he was going to start giggling again, so Harry tried a different tack. 'Ginny said that she was thinking about being an auror too.'

Ron frowned. 'Did she? I hadn't heard about this. When did she tell you?'

'We've been writing to each other, and she wrote it in a letter.'

'You're writing? Ok…well…good for Ginny. So, that means that you two would be in the same year.' Harry nodded and finished his pint.

'I'll get the next round.' Harry said, and walked to the bar.

Time had done its usual trick again, and before long the Easter holidays had approached. Ginny packed up her things at Hogwarts and prepared herself for a very dull holiday at home revising. For everybody else, life could continue, as long holidays were the blessing of schools only, although Molly Weasley was planning a large Easter Sunday lunch.

Ginny got home and put her bags in her bedroom. She cleared her desk by dumping the piles of things that were on it before in neat piles in the corner. Revision notes were piled up in the order in which they were going to come up in the examinations. She sat down, looked at them, and sighed. She lifted up the first page.

'**Notes on Advanced Transfiguration. **

**Chapter One. Why Advanced Transfiguration is called 'Advanced'.'**

Notes from sixth year. Horrid, she'd forgotten everything. So she read them, slowly at first, getting distracted as she read by things in her room that had never seemed so interesting before. Her personal best was spending ten minutes daydreaming whilst staring at her coat that was hanging on the back of her door, only interrupted by her mother walking in with a cup of tea.

'Working hard?' Molly said, making Ginny's insides squirm guiltily as she nodded, not quite ready to lie to her mother. 'Well, drink this. It will make all this work seem a little bit easier.'

'I'm bored Mum.' Moaned Ginny.

Molly clicked her tongue. 'Ooh, but all of this advanced magic isn't boring. I'm sure that it's really very interesting…'

'It was interesting the first time. But I've done it all before, and now I'm reading these notes for the third and fourth times in my life.'

'I hope that you do know them as well as you think you do, because then the exams will be a doddle. Good luck darling,' Molly said as she closed the door behind her. Ginny's head sank onto her desk.

Ginny's head stayed stuck on her desk seemingly for about three days before she got a letter from Harry.

'Dear Ginny,

I hope that I'm not disturbing you too much from your revision. Then again, from experience of OWLs and all that, I know that disturbance is welcome. Just wondered if you would like to come to London and see my house? You know how to apparate don't you, so I don't need to stick in a new floo fireplace or something…

Get back to me as soon as possible, so that I can seem busy.

With Love,

Harry'

Short, and to the point. Ginny scribbled a reply…but thought that it just wasn't worth it. Instead she ran downstairs, told her mum that she was going to Harry's, and apparated to London.

Harry was practising on his acoustic guitar when the doorbell rang. Puzzled (because his house was still concealed), Harry picked up his wand and looked through the peephole. It was a rather distressed looking Ginny. He opened the door.

'Oh thank goodness you invited me, I was about to go insane.'

'Hello Ginny' Harry said, smiling. He was genuinely very pleased to see her, distressed or not. 'The Burrow a bit claustrophobic?' Ginny nodded. Harry motioned her into the kitchen for a drink as she talked.

'In theory, it's just my parents and me. But because Dad's at work the whole time, it's actually just me and mum. All she does is nag me about doing my revision. I can't revise if all I'm thinking about its revision, because then I get too stressed to work and my brain turns into this…thing…that just repels knowledge. I swear that I've actually forgotten things this week so far.'

Harry nodded along sympathetically. 'Well, that's why I thought that you needed a break.'

Ginny drained her glass of orange juice. 'That was good. Thank you.'

'You know, I actually squeezed that myself.'

'Do you have a juicer?' Ginny asked, using her knowledge from OWL Muggle Studies.

Harry shook his head. 'Just a lot of time, a lot of oranges, and orange-stained hands.' He held them up for her to see. They were indeed orange. Ginny grabbed one and sniffed it and started giggling.

'They smell nice though. Some women spend a fortune on things trying to smell like that.'

'Yeah…' said Harry slowly. 'Pity I'm meant to be a big bad-wizard killing man.'

'I think that the orange smelling Harry is a much better kind.' Ginny comforted. 'Anyway, why have you not just got a job or something to waste your time with?'

Harry shrugged his shoulders. 'There was nothing I wanted to do. Then I got quite attached to my free time. I've been reading, and creating a library down the hall…I've learnt my guitar, and I've drunk more beer than most people do in a lifetime.'

'Lucky liver.'

'I'm not even nineteen yet, I'm allowed to drink.'

'I'm not even nineteen, and I'm stuck in school doing exams. I can't even consider drinking yet.' Ginny wiped hair out her face in a frustrated motion.

'Once you've finished your exams, I'll take you out for a drink.' Harry said.

'Is that a promise?' Ginny asked, to which Harry nodded. 'Now - I've seen your delightful kitchen and beautiful front door…but you haven't shown me around the rest of your transformed house.'

'Of course. I'll take you on the tour.'

Ginny followed Harry all around. She was suitably impressed by all of the changes, and was able to understand the trouble it must have taken to change the house in its original state, to how it now stood. The library that Harry had spoken of was actually what used to be the smallest bedroom with a few bookcases. Ginny was sure that she could see a fair number of school textbooks, but a couple of shelves were full of volumes that she hadn't seen before.

'Does Hermione know that you've got these?' Ginny asked.

'My gosh, no! If she did, she'd be gloating for years! This is my secret room, you can't tell anybody.'

Ginny got a little bit of a warm feeling inside when she realised that Harry was trusting her with his little secret.

When he skipped over his own bedroom, it was like a silent acceptance of the strangeness of her being in his house. She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend, and they hadn't really spoken about their relationship. They were alone in his house together, with absolutely no chance of being disturbed. What were they doing? That was the question that Ginny chose to ask when they reached the sitting room where Harry had been practising before Ginny disturbed him.

'What are we doing?' Harry repeated to her, as he fell into a sofa. 'I don't know.'

'Nor do I.'

'Well, I'm pleased that we're as confused as each other.'

'But really I thought that you would know more than me, because I never really wanted to split up with you in the first place.' Ginny reasoned.

'I agree. I should know. It's not as if I doubt my feelings about you…'

'So what are they?'

'Oh, I still like you very much. That doesn't quite cover it…Gin, I'm still single living here because I can't get over you. I don't want to get over you. I love…liking you. I enjoy it.'

Not bad, thought Ginny. 'I'm still single too.' She told him. 'I have been since you dumped me.'

'I didn't dump you! I broke up with you gently so you wouldn't get killed.'

Ginny tried to prod Harry's train of thought onto her tracks. 'But now Voldemort is dead because you killed him.'

'So nobody would want to kill you.' Harry said, 'so it would be perfectly safe to get back together.'

Ginny nodded. 'That sounds like the kind of thing that I wanted to hear.'

'Would you like to get back…'

At which point the doorbell rang again. Harry made his excuses and went to answer it, cursing whoever was there.

'Harry!' said the figure at the door.

'Dean.' Harry said much less enthusiastically than Dean would have wanted…but no less than he expected. They hadn't seen each other since Dean came over for a cup of coffee. 'Why are you here?'

'I have something to show you. Can I come in? Thanks.' He barged through the door into the hall. He looked up admiringly. 'I meant what I said last time. This place really is tastefully done.'

'What do you have to show me?' Harry asked impatiently. He wanted to get back to Ginny.

Dean's eyes lit up as we put his hand into his coat. 'This…' he said, and drew out a magazine.

'Witch Weekly?' Harry said, unimpressed.

'Yes…but not just any Witch Weekly. The edition where you feature.'

'Me?' Harry said weakly, reaching out for the magazine Dean offered him. Sure enough, there was a small mention on the front page of a little exclusive into Harry Potter's new home. Harry flipped to it immediately, not really interested in slimming spells or a long article into defensive spells every witch should know to ward off men. It was concise, well written, and accurate.

'Wow.' Said Harry, 'this actually isn't too bad. Thanks.'

Dean smiled. He was gaining Harry's confidence. 'You're welcome. Keep the magazine as a souvenir of the day when the press became your friend.'

'Well, we all hope for a rosy future.' Harry said, remaining despite Dean's best wishes, a little sceptical. But then, perhaps he was realising that having an old friend working for a magazine wasn't such a terrible thing.

'Harry are you finished…Dean.' Ginny walked in on Harry's musings and saw him still standing in the hall with Dean Thomas. 'Gosh…I haven't seen you for a while.'

'Hello Ginny. It has been a long time, I see that you're looking healthy.'

'Thanks…'

Harry was bursting to say just how awkward the situation was, but restrained himself on the basis that it would be a really stupid thing to say. 'Ginny's here having a look at the house.' Is what he settled for instead.

'Well you can compare your findings with the article I wrote about it in Witch Weekly.'

'Yes I can' Ginny said. She was thinking that she should elaborate…but she just couldn't quite manage it. She hadn't had a real conversation with Dean since they split up…but then again they didn't speak much in the last couple of weeks of their relationship anyway.

Dean used his keen journalist's instincts to pick up on the strained atmosphere and decided that he should leave. 'Have fun with the magazine Harry, nice to see you again Ginny.' He walked towards the door and opened it himself. 'Bye then.' He closed the door.

Harry exhaled. 'I swear, he makes the most excruciating exits every time I see him.'

'His entrances aren't anything special either' Ginny assured Harry. 'But anyhow, he's gone now. Where were we?'

Harry did genuinely have to think. Ginny didn't look too happy with him, so he thought that he'd go for the direct approach – which seemed to work last time. He leaned into her and kissed her.

She looked up at him, apparently a little puzzled. 'I skipped a step.' He said, by way of explanation before she smiled and they kissed again.

Author's note

This again seems like the natural place for this chapter to end. One more to go…


	4. Chapter 4

'Merci beaucoup monsieur, et au revoir' Fred Weasley said, shaking hands with a fat wizard. George stood on the path outside the house they were leaving, waiting. As the door close behind Fred, George whispered under his breath.

'He was a bit on the chubby side wasn't he?'

Fred sniggered. 'Let's be honest George, that man was fat, plain and simple.'

'You can be cruel sometimes.'

'I think that he's the cruel one…his poor heart is trying to keep him alive, and he keeps on trying to kill it with fat and salt.' George decided to ignore Fred.

They were in Paris on a business trip. The fat man was a retiring professional who was selling his shop in the magical region of Paris. Fred and George had just agreed to buy the shop and transform it from a magical crockery shop, into Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes first international venture. It seemed promising, the French had reacted enthusiastically to test ranges sold in small batches in other shops.

The Hogsmeade shop had been such a success that everybody involved was prepared to make a little risk with Paris. One of the little risks being that nobody could speak French… That was, until Fred and George offered Fleur's sister a little summer job. Gabrielle helped them word an advertisement for shop staff, (preferably bilingual). She was happy with her fee for a very little work.

The investor in this venture was Harry again, who had been extremely satisfied with his returns from the Hogsmeade shop. He secured his position as an investor immediately – much to Fred and George's delight. Harry even negotiated a little deal where he ended up owning a fair amount of shares in all three shops. Harry had decided to expand his economic ventures with some of the profits from the jokes shops. Harry appeared to have a gift for finding companies that had good prospects and were going to succeed. His investment was a kind of golden touch for any company, and economists called the subsequent results 'The Potter Effect'. Of course, the immediate effect on Harry was that he became significantly richer, enabling him to invest more…and so the cycle went on. Of course one or two of his companies failed, but they were statistical blips.

In any case, most of this was far into the future. We are only in June, at which stage Harry's money was invested only in Fred and George, and tentatively in a small firm called 'Balmy Balms' that sold cosmetics by owl. June is the season for exams, which Harry and Ginny knew only too well. Whilst she was at school their ability to spend time together was obviously cut short, but because of her exams she couldn't spend too much time on her letters either. Sometimes all a letter consisted of was 'I love you'. But what else really needed to be said. That particular letter was his personal favourite and he kept it on his bedside table.

Thinking about Ginny often drove Harry to become a little restless. He tried to talk to Ron about it, but he responded with a curt -

'I want to have no part in your lustings after my little sister. It's just wrong.'

Even Hermione wasn't being the pillar of support that she usually was. She seemed to be going into the stage of her relationship with Ron that dictated she was thinking far too much about further commitment.

'Oh, I envy you and Ginny, I really do.' Hermione sighed one evening.

'Err, why?' Said Harry, puzzled. After all, he had just spent the last ten minutes moaning to Hermione about how much he missed Ginny.

'You're both in such a lovely stage of a relationship. Ron and I…we've come to a stage where we can go no further without a sign of further commitment.' Harry was surprised…Ron appeared to be correct about predicting that this moment would arrive.

'Speak to Ron, I'm sure that he'll be happy to oblige' said Harry, which Hermione seemed happy to hear.

So Harry was left alone with his thoughts and the letter that told him that Ginny loved him. Then three days and ten hours after he had last spoken to Hermione, his doorbell rang. It was becoming a bit more of a frequent occurrence, so Harry didn't jump out of his skin, but he did take his wand.

Opening the door, he saw Hermione standing there, beaming, with a rather sheepish Ron standing behind her.

'Guess what?' She said, bouncing up and down (literally).

'You've…'

Harry didn't get the chance to answer. Hermione stuck her left hand in his face, nearly scratching his glasses with the large ring that she was displaying on her finger. 'We're engaged!' she screeched.

'Wow, congratulations.' Harry said, looking over at Ron to see how excited he was. 'Come in, we'll have a celebratory drink.'

Harry preferred the kitchen to the living room as a place for informal chatting. There were enough seats, and it was less inhibited. There was something about sitting on a sofa that reminded him of interviews, and it unnerved him. This was a strange phenomenon, as Harry couldn't even remember the last time that he had been interviewed. Anyhow, he popped open a bottle of champagne and poured it all over the floor and surfaces before he managed to salvage a few drops for the glasses.

'To Ron and Hermione getting married…' said Harry, raising his glass. Ron and Hermione raised theirs too, and they drank. 'Do you ever think that if we could have seen ourselves as we are now as a kind of flashback, but in the future, back in the past, we would believe it?'

Hermione and Ron looked at each other. Hermione decided that she should speak.

'What exactly do you mean?' she asked carefully.

'Imagine us on the train in the first year. Just imagine us sitting there suddenly having a vision of us, as we are now, congratulating you on your engagement…do you think that we would have believed it?'

'Oh I see what you mean.' Ron said, and then he thought about his answer for a second. 'No…I wouldn't have been able to believe that you would have a nice kitchen. I imagined that you were like me and liked things scruffy.' He was serious, so they didn't laugh. Instead they traded stories from their past, including the time last year that they banished a Snape (without memories) to the Amazon rainforest.

'Y'know, I think that Ginny is convinced that I murdered him.' Harry said thoughtfully, mentioning Ginny for the first time in the evening (he'd been holding himself back for Ron's benefit).

Hermione laughed. 'Well…I suppose that it is plausible. You were pretty angry with him for being a murderer.' She stopped laughing. 'It's not very funny really, is it?' Silence.

'Well, thanks for making us feel like we should look forward to married life Harry.' Ron said, trying to make the awkward moment pass quickly. 'We came to you first, no-one else in the family knows.'

'No-one?' Harry said a little incredulously. Ron nodded.

'Well, I called my parents on the 'phone. They were pleased, obviously.' Mentioned Hermione. 'Oh Ron, they promised that they'd help with us buying a new house.'

Harry was confused. 'But you've only just moved into your flat.'

'Oh yes, but it's nowhere near big enough if we're going to get married and have children.'

Ron turned a little green.

'Oh come on Ron, we were talking about this not that long ago. Hermione, you would have been very proud of him. He's even promised to buy your son his first 'Hogwarts – A History'.'

'I am proud of him, that's why we're getting married.' She kissed Ron on the cheek and ruffled his hair.

'We'd best be off Harry, I have to surprise my parents with the good news.' Ron said, a little bit as if he was preparing himself for an unpleasant experience.

Harry waved them off, and turned into his house. It felt even emptier than before.

Ginny left the steam engine behind a little reluctantly, knowing that she wouldn't be seeing it again for a very long time. She was no longer at school, and now she could finally do whatever she wanted…but first she had to see her family. Love them as she might she just really wanted to see…

'Harry!' she exclaimed, as she saw her boyfriend standing alone. 'Where are the redheads?'

He kissed her as a welcome. 'I persuaded them that it was easier for you to get home from my house, so I have come to pick you up instead of them having to travel all the way to London. Plus, I get to have you all to myself first.'

She held onto him tightly as they wandered out of the station, him pushing her luggage-laden trolley all the way to a car…

'Harry, what is this?'

'This is my car.'

'But you can't drive.' There was a distinctly panicked tone in her voice.

'I have a licence now.'

'It takes months to get a licence.'

'Not if you tweak the system' he said with a grin. He unlocked the car, and put her things into the boot. She still wasn't any closer to opening the passenger door and getting in. 'I promise you Gin, I'm not going to endanger your life by taking you in a car when I can't drive. I'm fine, I promise.'

She summoned up her Gryffindor courage, and sat down inside the car. Harry sat on the driver's side and closed the door.

'Now…' he said, 'now what I wonder.'

'Harry…' moaned Ginny, not happy with this turn of events. He turned to smile at her.

'Joking.' He said, turning the key in the ignition, and proceeding to drive away in a manner that is known across Great Britain as 'London Driving'. There isn't another way to drive in London if you want to move…but it isn't exactly the most sensible way of driving. Ginny was terrified.

They arrived at Harry's house without incident shortly afterwards (in London driving times – which means about three quarters of an hour to travel an extremely short distance). Ginny's things were moved in, and they made plans. She was going to leave some of her things at Harry's house, but take her trunk back to the Burrow so that her mother wasn't suspicious. All throughout the summer they would see each other, and Ginny could easily stay at Grimmauld place. There were enough spare bedrooms for her to be under no pressure (but Harry did have a double bed…just in case she got lonely).

It was a simple plan, which is always the best type if it's the kind of plan you want to work. Ginny and Harry were often in each other's company, so they were together when they received a letter each from the ministry. Harry read his out.

'Dear Mr Potter,

We are delighted to note that you have decided to join the Ministry of Magic's elite Auror task force. Training begins on September 3rd in the Auror Academy, next door to the Ministry of Magic. It will be clearly labelled, so there's no chance of missing it – just floo to the main ministry building.

We will be learning how to deal with threats to the safety of the magical population, and dealing with diffusing situations. As you know, this is work that involves commitment, hard work, and occasionally a little bit of sacrifice…'

Harry stopped reading when he looked at Ginny.

'They're identical, right?'

She nodded.

'It's just…' she started to say, 'I don't think that I'm so keen on working for the ministry right now.' Harry raised his eyebrows. 'I mean, I've never had a good experience with them…and all they want from being an auror is to work you into the ground. You know Tonks is thinking about quitting?'

'I didn't know that.' Harry confessed. 'But what about the prospect of 'sacrifice', 'commitment', and 'hard work'? Sounds like fun…' He said a little sarcastically.

'It sounds a little bit like what you've had to do your whole life. I'm not so sure about this Harry…'

Ginny's doubts were contagious. By the end of the evening (and a couple of bottles of wine) they had written to the ministry resigning their positions before they had even started.

'So much for that.' Harry said, as they watched Hedwig flap away in her wearisome way. 'Now what do we do?'

Ginny looked up at him. 'Let's go on holiday.'

**This little bit marks the end of this story. End. **

Author's note 

Well, that's that. Thanks for reading to the end, please leave a review – I really, truly love them.


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